


you and me, fade in

by skamz



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, good feelings and sad feelings but it all ends well of course it does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 22:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamz/pseuds/skamz
Summary: Isak and Even have been best friends for over a decade, but when they end up sharing a kiss during a game of spin the bottle, things just aren't the same anymore.





	you and me, fade in

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii, hello. for some reason i couldn't stop thinking about this idea earlier today (well, yesterday, now), and then we had relatives over, and then they left, and a few hours later, this little thing was born. it's a bit of a mess, and i'm too sleepy to reread it at this point, woops :( but i hope it'll be somewhat okay anyway?

"Magnus, we're literally too old to play spin the bottle."

"Yes, Magnus," Even chimes in. "Isak is  _literally_ seventeen years old, and soon he's going to be able to buy beer  _literally_ all by himself, he's  _literally_  waytoo old for this." 

Isak rolls his eyes so hard he almost gives himself a momentary headache. After almost ten years of friendship, it's obvious Even hasn't gotten tired of reminding Isak that he's the younger one. 

"Shut up," he says, voice void of any animosity. 

Even feigns a gasp as he brings a hand to his heart. "Today's youth, so incredibly rude." 

Isak scoffs, shaking his head. 

" _Fine_ ," Even sighs exaggeratedly, before he pretends to zip his lips, locking them with an invisible key which he then throws away. 

Isak can't stop the smile that takes over his face, this time. 

"You guys," Magnus says, and Isak is almost startled, because although he really does appreciate the guy, he had sort of just forgotten that he was here. "Are so weird sometimes."

Isak and Even exchange a knowing smile, and none of them try to argue with him. They area little weird, sometimes, but it's what makes them  _them_ , and Isak wouldn't have it any other way.

"So, would you guys join in or not?"

"Magnus, dude, seriously, if you like the guy, just...go try to talk to him?"

Even swings an arm around Magnus' shoulders, gives them a little squeeze. "Anyone would be lucky to be liked by you."

"Really?" Magnus asks, eager. 

Even lets out a small chuckle. "Really."

Magnus then looks at Isak. " _Really_ ," he confirms. 

 

 

So, they end up agreeing to play spin the bottle not even an hour later, because apparently, according to Magnus, asking a room full of teenagers to play spin the bottle requires less courage than attempting to talk to the guy you like. 

But then again, maybe it does. Isak wouldn't know _—_ he's never really liked any guy. Well, he likes  _guys_ , generally speaking, that much he's figured a while ago now, but there's never really been _—_

 _A_ guy. 

In Isak's defense, he's had a couple of drinks, and he's the kind of tipsy that makes him want to go with the flow of things and not overthink as much as he usually does. Even's still sipping on his first and only beer of the night, but in his defense, well, he's just the most supportive person Isak has ever known. 

They're not really paying attention to the game when it starts, they're mostly waiting for Magnus' turn to spin the bottle and talking to each other.

"What are the odds of the bottle stopping on the guy?"

"Well," Isak says, after he's counted the number of players. "We're seventeen in total, so, like, 6.25%." 

Even chuckles. " _Nerd_."

Isak hits him lightly on the shoulder. "You asked for the  _odds_."

But then, it's his turn to feel a small tap on his shoulder. "Your turn," the guy on his left tells him. 

"Oh, right." 

As the bottle keeps spinning, he briefly glances at the circle of people, and it suddenly hits him that there's a 6.25% chance the bottle will point at Magnus, and a 6.25% chance it'll point at Even. A 12.5% chance it'll point at one of his friends.

And then it stops.

It's _—_

Pointing at Even. 

Isak isn't exactly sure why, but his first reaction is to laugh, a giggle kind of bubbling out of him uncontrollably. 

Even looks at him and his eyes are a little wide, and his mouth is hanging slightly open. 

"Hm _—_ "

"93.75% chance this was  _not_ going to happen," Isak says, and he breathes out another laugh. 

Even closes his mouth, and Isak looks at it, this mouth he's supposed to kiss now, because he's agreed to play this silly game. 

It's  _strange_ _._

"We don't have to do this," Even whispers.

Isak shrugs. "It's whatever." It honestly is. 

Even raises his eyebrows.  _Are you sure?_

Isak offers him a little smile.  _Yeah._

It'll be over in a second, anyway, like ripping off a bandage or something. And it's not even going to actually hurt. 

The room is completely silent. Maybe, Isak isn't sure. It kind of feels completely empty, too. He's leaning in and it seems to last longer than a few seconds, and suddenly he can hear Even's breathing, and his own heartbeat, it seems, and _—_

Even's lips are against his. 

They're soft, and plump, and when Even exhales through his nose, he can feel the warm air land on his skin, and it sends a jolt through his entire body, unexpectedly. He puckers his lips, as if by reflex, and Even does as well, his lips gently pressing against his, and then slowly opening up. Isak feels boneless, suddenly, and so warm, so warm, and _—_

A moan, so quiet there's a good chance he only imagined it, escapes his mouth. 

Oh.  _Fuck._

Isak quickly pulls back, swallowing thickly. His shoulders tense up, and the warmth he had just felt leaves him in the blink of an eye, as if a bucket of cold water had been dropped on him, both sobering and cruel.

The game resumes as if nothing of significance had just happened, as if nothing had changed, the bottle keeps spinning as the world does. Isak furtively glances at Even, but he's not able to read his face when he does. He's not sure he wants to try to. 

He feels like everything has just changed.

***

Sunlight wakes him up way too early the next morning. He really should've closed the fucking curtains when he got home last night. 

_Last night._

Memories flash through his mind, and they do an even better job at waking him up than the sunlight. 

Isak sits on his bed, starts counting the stripes on his sheets, over and over again, willing himself to not have any other thoughts, because he  _can't,_ not yet, he can't bear to face the mere  _possibility_ that _—_

He looks away from his sheets.

They had  _kissed_ , and Isak had pulled away, but he hadn't wanted to, which is something that's just impossible for him to comprehend right now, like the thought of two immiscible liquids becoming one homogeneous mixture. It's just not supposed to happen. 

Because Even is his best friend in the whole entire world, his favorite person, the best person he knows. The most caring, and understanding, and kind, and so beautiful in every single way, and he's always, always been, and it's always been so _obvious_.  

Isak's stomach churns. He feels like he's about to be sick, and he's not even hungover.

***

Isak has never faced a Monday with so much dread.

He tries to prepare himself for different scenarios. He tries to picture the awkwardness, until one of them will tell the other that they need to talk, and then Isak will just tell him that _—_

He'll just tell him that _—_

What the _fuck_ is he going to tell him? Should he try to play it cool instead? Act like it was nothing? Maybe, by some sort of miracle, Even will have forgotten the way Isak had melted into the kiss, the  _sound_ he made. Maybe he'll manage to be convincing enough. Except he probably won't, because Even has always had the ability to see right through him. 

 

Isak sits with the boys in the cafeteria during lunch. Even's Monday morning class finishes a little later than his, but he always joins them afterward. 

He's already two minutes late, and Isak's heart is thumping. He can't stand the wait anymore. 

Thankfully ( _—_ or not, he simply doesn't know yet) the wait is over in the following seconds, as Even slouches down on the chair next to his. 

"Hey, man," Jonas greets him with a nod and a smile, which Even probably returns, but Isak doesn't see it, because he's currently staring at the cup of yogurt he just ate, and he's just genuinely keen on reading the ingredients list on the back of it.

He's such a coward, Jesus, he can't even  _look_ at him. 

"Hey," he hears, and the word is whispered so close to his ear it sends shivers down his spine. 

Isak finally dares to look in his direction, and Even is just...smiling at him. 

"Hey," Isak replies quickly.  

"Can I have it?" Even asks, nodding towards Isak's half-eaten cookie. 

It's kind of a silly tradition of theirs, splitting chocolate chip cookies in half and sharing them, but only if they're chocolate chip. Isak hadn't even realized he had cut the one he bought earlier in half.

He nods, and Even takes it, grinning. 

Isak can't think straight, is overwhelmed by Even's presence and how much he wants to cherish it, how drawn to him he is, how he wants to lean against him, and just look at him. How he wants him to stay by his side, and how he doesn't ever want their time to run out. 

"Mom wants you to come over for dinner," he then says, and it sounds casual, like any of the hundreds of times Even has invited him over for dinner, like there's nothing different about this time, like there's nothing different at all. "Isak?" he asks, when he doesn't reply. 

Even  _is_ acting like it was no big deal, like it didn't happen at all. 

"Yes, of course," he says, and then he adds, with a teasing tone: "As long as you don't help her cook, for all of our sakes." 

"Really? And what is  _that_ supposed to mean?" He shouldn't seem so convinced, he shouldn't seem unaware of the turmoil Isak's trying so hard to hide. 

Isak doesn't know what to do other than to keep playing along. "Oh, you know what it means." 

He's unable to feel like kissing Even was not a big deal, but he can act like it was, if that's what Even is doing, if it's what he wants. Maybe it's for the best. 

(Isak really hopes the knots in his stomach are not an indication that he's wrong. He really hopes that it is.) 

***

"Sweetheart, would you like another slice?'

Isak shakes his head. "No, thank you." 

"Are you sure? It's your favorite." 

Isak nods, and there's this small lump in the back of his throat that he tries to swallow back, in vain. There's so much Even's family has learned about him over the years, and so much he's learned about them, too. They've become like family to him. It's not something he ever wants to lose. 

"I'll give you some to take home with you before you go, then," she replies softly. 

Isak offers her a smile. "Thank you," he says again, hoping to convey how grateful he really is. 

 

They go to Even's room, after dinner, like they usually do, and Isak wonders how many hours they've spent there together. Thousands and thousands and how on  _earth_ had he been able to remain so casual about it? 

Maybe because he'd always seen Even as nothing but his best friend. Definitely because of that, because his feelings for him had never been anything but completely platonic, and the prospect of spending the rest of the evening in Even's room had never really affected him the way it does, now. Isak had simply always enjoyed spending time with him, and the fact that he got to be fully himself around him, the fact that it made him so comfortable, but it had never made his belly flutter the way it does now, never made him feel like he constantly needs to take deep breaths just to maintain his composure.

But it does, now. Isak is a little weak in the knees as soon as Even closes the bedroom door. 

"Netflix and chill," Even then teases, as he climbs up the ladder to his loft bed. 

It makes Isak's heart pick up speed, which is just ridiculous at this point. Normally, Isak would've just wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in reply, and Even would've laughed a little, and it would've been  _chill_. 

Jesus. Were they always so _—_

 _Flirtatious_ with each other? 

They sit on the bed, Even's laptop on his lap, and Isak doesn't sit as close to him as he normally would, although that's precisely what he wants, and more. Images flood through his mind, of them  _actually_ Netflix and chilling, as fucking ridiculous as that sounds, of them being pressed close, lips and bodies and nothing between them. 

He hates himself for it, feels like he's allowed his mind to become poisoned, when what they had had always been so perfect and right just the way it was. 

"Isak?" He looks toward Even, who's frowning a little. "You're good?" he asks, so careful, like he really wants to make sure that he is. 

The lump in Isak's throat has yet to disappear. He's  _not_ good, he's really not.

He can't bring himself to say it, and instead, he starts to climb out of Even's bed. 

"Isak?" Even calls again, a little urgently this time. 

"Blackbird," he says. 

He obviously catches Even off guard, and he also catches himself off guard, as if he had not consciously chosen to say the word and, instead, his brain had sensed an imminent catastrophe and had used it as some sort of defense mechanism. 

 _Blackbird_. It's something they had established years ago. They've always promised to be completely open with each other and to not keep any secrets, but if one of them says the word, the other can't insist and he has to let go. 

Isak had only ever used it once before tonight, when he was fifteen and he couldn't bring himself to tell Even that the thing that was  _happening_ to him was that he was figuring out that he was gay, and he just wasn't ready to tell Even, mostly because he wasn't ready to admit it to himself. 

Even purses his lips, and Isak sees worry in his eyes. He looks away. 

Isak leaves Even's place, and Even doesn't say anything, simply lets him go. 

***

> _**Even** _
> 
> _You don't have to tell me anything, but I love you and I'll always be there for you_
> 
> _Always, Isak_

Even sends him the text later that night, and Isak reads it over and over again, like he's afraid it's going to disappear, like he's afraid it's all just going to disappear because of these stupid, stupid,  _stupid_ feelings he can't shake off. 

 _I love you too_ , he thinks, but doesn't type, every single time. 

***

He's going to have to talk to him at one point, Isak  _knows_ this. He already feels terrible as hours, and now days, pass by, because he knows Even is worried about him right now, is desperate for Isak to let him know what's going on. 

But he's not ready. He's been hoping that perhaps it would only be some sort of phase, in the end, something that would eventually dissipate with time, but the feelings won't go away, although he begs them to. It's like they're wrapping themselves around his heart and squeezing so  _tight_.

> _**Isak**  
>  _
> 
> _I'm sorry i'm not telling you anything_
> 
> _I'm okay, i just need a little more time_
> 
> _You're the most amazing best friend in all the universes_

***

Isak misses him so much, more than he can stand. It's probably the main reason why he asks him to come over on Saturday morning. 

And also because he's going to tell him. He doesn't know what's going to happen after he does, how terrible things might become, but he needs to. He simply cannot stand the uncertainty anymore _—_ he  _needs_ to know. 

Isak opens the door for him, and the sight of him knocks the air out of his lungs. He looks tired and worried and relieved and Isak feels a pang of guilt, and he's missed him, missed him,  _missed him_. 

He constantly feels his presence behind him as they walk to his room, and when they get there, he doesn't dare to look at him. 

Even makes a step towards him, and the sound of the floor creaking is so loud. 

He's not worried that Even will react badly, he knows he never would. Still, Isak also knows that things between them will never be the same after today. He feels like he’s about to destroy the thing he cares the most about in this world, but if he continues trying to keep the words locked inside of him, he’s going to choke on them. 

Slowly, he turns toward Even. 

"I can’t stop thinking about, about _—_ we kissed. And it was supposed to be meaningless and it was supposed to be whatever, and I _can't _—__ " 

His heart is pounding in his chest, too fast. His mouth is still open, but he can't speak anymore. 

Before Isak knows it, there are two hands cradling his face and a forehead against his, and all he can hear is _breathe, breathe_ , and all he can feel is Even breathing, breathing, and so eventually he starts to breathe, too. 

"I'm sorry," he says, almost pants. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I  _swear_ , please believe me."

"I believe you," Even immediately reassures him. "It's okay, you're okay, we're okay." 

Even's arms are now wrapped around him, and he holds him close. His smell, his warmth, the sound of his voice _—_ Isak never wants to give them up. 

"But it changes everything," Isak murmurs. Perhaps Even doesn't fully realize it yet, but he needs to know. 

A moment of silence passes. Even doesn't let go of him, and Isak can feel his heart beating. It's _—_

Fast. 

"I don't mind if it does," he replies, also a murmur, like a secret in Isak's ear. "I don't mind," he repeats.   

"You don’t mind?"

"I love you," Even says. "You know that, right?" 

Tingles awaken across Isak's skin, and heat rushes to his cheeks. He nods. 

"I  _love_ you, Isak. I don't mind." 

_Oh._

Isak is filled with relief and quiet excitement, it takes over his entire body. But there's disbelief, too, like this can't be real. He pinches his thumb and forefinger together as hard as he can,  _feels_ it.

He's not dreaming.

"Since the party?" he asks. 

Even shakes his head. "Before," he replies. 

And there's a part of Isak that's hurt, now, at the thought of Even having to go through what he went through this past week for an even longer period of time, of him being scared and confused and feeling like he couldn't tell him. 

Isak squeezes his arms around him. "I love you," he tells him, and he’s so determined to make him understand that he does. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

"I _—_ " Isak begins. "Love you." 

They both laugh a little, and it's like music to his ears.

"I want to kiss you." 

Even's words hang in the air, until Isak lifts his head from Even's shoulder, and they're facing each other, and Even has the most beautiful eyes Isak has ever seen, and soul, and _—_

Isak kisses him. 

He melts into it like he had the previous time, but now he allows himself to. Allows himself to bury his fingers into the hair on the back of his head, allows himself to enjoy the way Even's lips feel against his, opens his mouth and allows him in. 

Most of the day is spent in Isak's bed, and it's filled with kisses and touches, Even's mouth and hands making Isak feel like he's just as in awe of Isak as Isak is of him. 

And things will change, they already have, but Isak isn’t scared of the change anymore, because feeling Even against him reassures him and it makes him hopeful. Because together, they're not two immiscible liquids. They're Isak and Even, and together, they fit perfectly, and together, they make all the sense in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> hiii again if you made it here. thank you for reading, i hope you have a wonderful day 
> 
> also you can find me on tumblr  
> [here](http://skamz.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
